Gwaine and the Necklace A challenge by Mrs Bonner
by Lady Willamina
Summary: Please read and review - challenge ends on January 31st! What secrets does Camelot's most roguish knight hide in his past? Does he trust Merlin enough to tell all. Warning of suggested domestic abuse in Chapter 3 and 4. No pairings, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

Gwaine and the Necklace. A challenge by Mrs Bonner.

**A/N This scene takes place as Merlin, Arthur and Gwaine return from the Perilous lands during the episode "The Eye of the Phoenix". Merlin and Gwaine seemed to be closer friends in Series #3 than Series #4 so I chose to have the story occur then.  
>This will be a multi part fiction and i know I will NEVER get more reviews than the oh so awesome KittyO, but it is still fun to write and enter.<strong>

"So what happened before we got you out of that room Merlin?" Gwaine asked his best friend nonchalantly, referring to the Fisher King's throne room where Merlin had found himself trapped. Neither Gwaine nor Arthur had any idea of the very strange encounter Merlin had had with the aforementioned king, and the young warlock had no doubt they'd just make jokes about his 'mental affliction' if he tried to explain it to them.

The three men were gathered around a small campfire, trying to stave off the cold wind that swirled over the bare and open hills of the Perilous Lands. Arthur was already fast asleep, wrapped in his bright red cape on the other side of the fire. Merlin and Gwaine sat side by side, speaking quietly and confidentially. Merlin was exhausted after the events of the day, but felt significantly better now he had Prince Arthur safe and in his sights again.

Merlin jabbed at the flames with a branch, causing a few sparks to fly outward. He shrugged his shoulders replying, "Not much. I just sat tight, waiting for you to come to my rescue."

Gwaine laughed quietly, "Yeah right. That's so not your style my friend!"

Merlin kept his eyes on the fire.

"You had a weird, haunted look on your face too." Gwaine continued. Merlin thought he had managed to hide the distress and anxiety he had felt after his conversation with the Fisher King, from his two friends. Apparently not.

Part of him deeply wanted to tell Gwaine the whole story; starting with how he'd just effectively _killed_ the Fisher King, the calamity ahead that he'd been warned about and the vial he'd been given to use when the time was at it's most dire. While he was at it maybe he could come completely clean and tell Gwaine all about Arthur and his prophesied futures, his absolute need to protect Arthur and Morgana's treachery, which the Crown Prince remained oblivious of.  
>Sometimes it seemed as though he carried a burden as heavy as Camelot Castle upon his shoulders and the thought of sharing the load was very enticing. Where would he start his explanation though? Everything was so convoluted and twisted by now.<p>

"I was just relieved." Merlin replied, glancing toward Gwaine. It wouldn't be fair to make him a part of all this, to involve him in all the secrets and untruths that were so necessary for Arthur's survival and the future return of magic to the Kingdom.

Gwaine nodded knowingly. He could tell when someone didn't want to talk. He felt the same when anyone asked him about his necklace. People had a right to keep some things personal didn't they?

The two men returned to their own thoughts in silence for a while.

"He's not exactly grateful that we came is he?" Gwaine suddenly spoke again, breaking into Merlin's contemplation. The two of them looked over at the man in question. His slumbering form looked so peaceful and young in the soft light of the camp fire. This was in great contrast to the anger and annoyance he had displayed earlier when Merlin, then Gwaine, had appeared in the chamber where he had oh so nearly lost his life to a murderous wyvern. His eyes had been icy and his posture stiff with controlled rage. Merlin stifled a laugh at the memory. He'd never be able to hear the word 'alone' again without picturing Arthur's furious face as he overemphasized its pronunciation.

"He never show's that he's grateful Gwaine. That would mean admitting he needed help." Merlin had been at Arthur's side long enough to know what he said did not always mean what he felt. It was confusing but that's just how he was.

"Mmmm. He doesn't know how lucky he is to have you Merlin."

Merlin looked at Gwaine's face to see if he was speaking in mirth.

"Yeah right. I'm clumsy, disobedient, lazy..."

"You are not lazy Merlin. I know how to get away with as doing as little as possible and believe me; I saw none of that on the few days I was in Camelot. As for disobedient, he's damn lucky you are or he'd be in a sorry ol' state by now." Gwaine gave Merlin his brightest smile. The boy needed a boost in self esteem and he clearly wasn't getting any proper recognition from the Princess.

Merlin returned Gwaine's grin, feeling the warmth of happiness envelope him despite the freezing wind.

"Maybe you could come back to Camelot with us Gwaine. If Arthur talks to his father again..."

"No." Gwaine interrupted, shaking his head emphatically. "I want nothing to do with the likes of Uther."

"But isn't it lonely on the road by yourself all the time?" Merlin asked. He figured he knew something of loneliness, even if he was surrounded by people in Camelot. But being constantly on the move would also entail never knowing where you were going to sleep the next night, always having to be on constant alert for people trying to rip you off and having no friends to confide in at the end of a long day.

Gwaine thought of lying at first, telling his only real friend some line about how being alone a good deal of the time didn't necessarily mean that he was lonely, but in the end he decided on the truth.

"Maybe it suits me better that way. If you don't stick around for long, people don't get too close and start expecting things from you."

Gwaine saw Merlin's eye brows shoot upwards in what he thought was shock, and then realized what he'd said could be taken in offense, "Not that I mean you Merlin. I don't mind you asking things of me. You helped me out before you even knew me after all."

"Yeah, and covered your tab at the Rising Sun the second day after we met." Merlin grinned at him in reply.

"Well, that was the Princess really." The two laughed softly at the memory.

"So, is there something you're running from then? Bad memories maybe?" Merlin pressed his enigmatic friend for more information. He knew that Gwaine was high born himself but that he held a low opinion of nobles because his mother had been left destitute after his father had been killed fighting for Carleon's King. He also knew Gwaine thought what a man did, not his birth right, should determine whether he be considered noble or not. He suspected his friends bravado, his disinclination to settle anywhere together with his willingness to overdo things at any tavern available, were self protection mechanisms; his way of covering up past hurts and preventing further possible episodes.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want." Merlin added, not wanting to be too heavy handed.

"You won't force me to confess anything I don't want." Gwaine replied smiling in a way that he hoped rendered his features unreadable. "We've all got bad memories I guess."

Merlin raised his eyebrows and made a short humming noise in agreement.

"Well, take my sister. That evil old toad is definitely a bad memory." Gwaine began light heartedly.

**A/N** **We find out more about Gwaine's past next chapter. What do you think so far?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Merlin does not belong to me and I do not make any monetary profit from these stories I write using the characters and places owned by BBC and Shine.

**A/N There will not be much dialogue in the earlier part of Gwaine's history as I wished to move things along and also because I wasn't sure what a five year old would say!**

"What do you mean 'an evil old toad'? Merlin asked, not even sure if Gwaine was being serious.

"Well, that's being kind actually. She could've saved our mam if she'd cared enough." Gwaine mused, staring into the flames.

Merlin examined his friend closely in alarm as he started the story of his early childhood...

* * *

><p>Gwaine had fond memories of the house he had lived in with his mother and sister for the first five years of his life. It had been a modest but comfortable dwelling in the wealthier part of Castleton, the town which had grown up around the castle where Caerleon's royal family lived. He recalled his mother singing happily in her sweet, gentle voice she did her embroidery and the cold winter afternoons when all three of them sat beside the large fireplace in the living room, cosy and safe from the outside world.<p>

Of course, his father had lived with them too, but spent so much time away fighting for the King's army, that Gwaine had no concrete memory of him.

The day he learned his father had died was etched into his memory forever. He had heard a horse approach the house followed shortly by a pitiful scream of anguish from his beloved mother. By the time he ran outside to see what was wrong, his mother was sobbing frantically and the horseman was standing in front of her looking aggrieved, clearly in the middle of delivering some unwanted news.

"My lady, I am deeply sorry to bring you this sad news but as your husband died right beside me on the battlefield, I felt it my duty to inform you in person."

As the wife of a soldier, Gwaine's mother always feared such an outcome, but she was unprepared for the gravity of her distress when her nightmare came true.

"Your husband was a brave man, my Lady, who fought bravely and died with honour. You should be proud."

As the man of the house, Gwaine was desperate to consol his bereaved mother. "Mam, don't cry so. I'll look after you." He begged her, reaching his arms around his mother's skirts. The sight of his beloved mother suffering so had more impact on him than the loss of a father he'd never known.

The months that followed were near the worst of his life. His mother was in a state of grief to begin with but as the weeks went by, the reason for her distress became more about how she was going to bring up two children without a knights wages and standing in the community.

Gwaine's sister was 10 years older than him and had her own take on the tragic events. Berenice was an attractive, proud and haughty girl, who did not take after her mother at all in looks or character. Even at 16 years old, her prime concern at the death of their father had been the loss of wealth and subsequent drop in social standing that would eventuate. She had her eye and one of the younger knights and was determined to make her way up in the world via a suitable marriage.

She had been working on getting this boy into her clutches for over a year and was beyond angry when it looked as though her plans were ruined.

Clarice was the opposite of her superficial daughter. She was honest, reliable and dignified. She loved both her children dearly and was willing to swallow her pride if it meant they would be provided for. Thus, 3 months after her husband's death when things were becoming desperate, she found herself in front of the King, asking for some sort of allowance or pension. Her husband had been a faithful and brave defender of Caerleon for many years so surely his dependants deserved some sort of support?

The King didn't even respect her enough to meet her eye as he forthrightly dismissed her from the Council Rooms. She returned to her home a shattered woman. All her respect for nobility and faith in her sovereign, gone.

She had heard tales from the market stall holders and other peasants of how they looked after each other in a crisis. In one story, the family of a blacksmith who'd had a horrible accident which rendered him blind, were gifted food and rent until they got another sort of income worked out. One of her previous stable boys had been taken in by a neighbour when he was 3 years old after the death of his family in a house fire.

In her time of need, she had been abandoned by her king. High born acquaintances - they were never really friends - were either too afraid of a backlash from the king or too stingy to offer financial assistance. Many of them lived in chambers within the castle and viewed themselves superior to the few noble families who chose not to. It had been Gareth's choice not to live within the castle walls as he felt it was a hotbed of political manoeuvring and currying of favour amongst the knights and other resident nobles. Perhaps that stroke of independence had been part of the reason why they failed to help her now?

Looking back, Gwaine knew that this was where his mistrust and antipathy of nobility originated. Over the next few years he watched his once beautiful, proud mother become a husk of her former self.

**A/N I cannot recall any mention of Gwaine's family members names, so i have made them up. Also, i don't know if the name of the King at the time when Gwaine's father was a knight, has been established so i just refer to him as 'the King". Hope i haven't erred or offended.  
>Poor Gwaine and his mam, don't you think?<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N; A new man enter's the picture chaning Gwaine and his mother's life forever.**

A loud crack emanating from the fire brought Gwaine back from his memories. Merlin was peering at him intensely and he felt uncomfortable at having revealed so much of his past.

"I could do with an ale or two round about now. How about you my friend?" He suggested smiling, more to break the tension than anything else.

Merlin recognized Gwaine's diversionary tactic for what it was. He smiled back and purposely got up to examine the fire in order to give his friend some private time to gather himself together. Merlin was perfectly aware how much it was costing Gwaine to bare his soul like this and he felt both honored and delighted that he was the one Gwaine trusted enough to confide in.

As Merlin added another branch to the fire he urged his friend to continue, "Were there no relatives she could go to?" he spoke quietly.

"No, the rest of my mother's family died in a plague that swept through their village years before." Gwaine replied, shaking his head slightly from side to side.

Merlin thought of his mother and how hard she'd had to work to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. At least his mother had friends who would help when things got tight, giving them a loaf of bread or old clothes when it was obvious they were struggling. Hunith's knowledge of farming and animal husbandry as well as the small cottage left to her by her mother, gave her a means of independence she'd had to put to full use when she found herself alone and with child. Merlin supposed that Gwaine's mother had always had others do the providing for her and no concept of anything other than the privileged life she'd so far lived.

As the fire flared up again after the addition of new fuel, Gwaine cleared his throat and went back to his story...

* * *

><p>The first major change in living circumstances that the young Gwaine recalled clearly, was when the servants were dismissed. All three of them had always been hard working and kind to their family and deserved better treatment. Clarice was guilt ridden as she sent them on their way and hoped it wouldn't take them long to find other work.<p>

Gwaine also remembered his sister's unkind behavior at this time. Berenice strutted grumpily around the house, completely unsympathetic to her mother's feelings. It turned out the young Knight she had been courting, was as shallow as she was, and had broken things off with her due to her new found poverty.

It wasn't long after the servants had gone that Sir Jaxon first entered the picture. Gwaine had vivid memories of their landlord coming around twice in the previous week to shout at his mother about unpaid rent, so Gwaine thought the new visitor would be someone after money too. However, there was no raised voices when he visited, or demands for fees owing. He was, in fact, polite to a tee, and even managed to make his mother smile.

The knight in question had thought Clarice a comely woman ever since he first saw her on the arm of Sir Gareth several years ago. Of course he had never acted upon his desires as she was a married woman and to covet the wife of another man went against the Knights Code.

When he heard of Sir Gareth's death, he waited what he thought a suitable time, then made his move. Still a bachelor and now approaching middle age, Sir Jaxon was keen to secure himself a wife and produce an heir. He was convinced that Clarice would fall at his feet as he had much to offer her; security, a comfortable home, a future for her children and the opportunity to belong to a man of his high calibre. In return, he did not expect her to love him, just obey and carry out all the duties of a wife.

Desite his mother's positive reaction to the attention, there was something about Sir Jaxon that made the young Gwaine feel extremely uneasy. He was not convinced by the man's fine words or his impeccable manners, his innocent eyes seeing something murky under the facade of pleasantry. It may have been the incessant hand wringing, the artificiality of his facial expressions or the hard, cold eyes that alarmed him or maybe a combination of things. Gwaine also disliked the way every conversation ended up a re-telling of another brave or noble deed he'd managed since he became a knight.

Clarice's initial refusal of Jaxon's offer of marriage did not put the knight off. He was determined and would bide his time till she could ignore her predicament no longer. In the mean time he kept subtly reminding her of how she could end up, without his intervention. He even bribed the landlord to throw them out of their house a little earlier than strictly necessary. The way he saw it, there was no way he could lose.

Sir Jaxon would have smirked in amusement if he had known that his closest ally in the quest to secure Clarice as his property, was in such close quarters. Berenice had been brought up by her mother to think she was destined for the life of a lady and when she learned of Jaxon's proposal, she did all she could to convince her mother to accept, using her younger brother as a lever. She brought the child to tears several times with her horror stories of how they'd end up begging on the streets, starving hungry and subject to all of winters cold cruelty. It wouldn't be long, she told her brother, till he became ill or had to resort to dishonest means to survive. She employed all the manipulative skills she had honed over the years to convince her mother that she wasn't doing the best she could for her children if she didn't accept the knight's offer. How could her mother lead her to believe she was going to live the life of a high born lady, then deprive her of that possibility now?

Sir Jaxon kept up his visits, breaking down Clarice's ridiculous pride bit by bit. Eventually, the day before they were to be evicted, Clarice gave in. Of course, Gwaine was too young to comprehend all that was going on at the time, but he gradually put all the pieces together over the next few years. In short, his mother agreed to marry a man she did not like and would in all likelihood be unpleasant, for the sake of her children's futures.

The first time Sir Jaxon raised a hand to Gwaine was about two months after they had moved into his house. He had been sitting by his mother's side, learning his letters and numbers when Sir Jaxon came home, in a foul temper because he had been bettered by a new recruit on the training field. Gwaine heard Sir Jaxon yelling at a servant in the corridor outside, then proceed to hit him. He swore to himself, then and there, never to leave his mother alone with this man. He knew there was something sinister about the knight from the start, but this gave his five year old brain concrete evidence to work with.

Slightly later that evening when he told the boy to go to bed and leave him alone with his mother, Gwaine refused. The abrupt change that came over the knight was something to behold. Gone was the polite, caring, honorable facade, to reveal a short tempered, arrogant bully. As he lifted his hand back and prepared to strike out at the boy he shouted at him, "How dare you disobey me child! I'll teach you some manners!"

"No, don't touch him. Please.!" Gwaine's mother had grasped Sir Jaxon's wrist as he was about to wallop him. "He didn't mean anything by it, my love." Clarice continued pleadingly. As the man calmed down a little, Clarice turned to her son, "Gwaine, off you go now my son."

She could see the confusion and fear in her son's eyes and desperately wanted to convince him that everything was fine. "I'll be fine Gwaine. Jaxon has just had a hard day, he would never really hurt any us, would you?"

The knight gave the boy a sneer then quickly plastered his sickly sweet smile onto his face. "Of course I wouldn't my dear. I've brought you into my home and promised to look after you as a dutiful husband and father. Please forgive my outburst!" Gwaine was definitely not convinced by the man's act but left the room as his mother urged. He suspected his mother did not truly believe her own words either, but could not comprehend why she would stay with this man if she didn't.

For the next six years Gwaine never actually witnessed his step father hit his mother, or hear him shout or yell at her, but his instincts told him something wasn't right about their relationship. His mother was no longer the happy, loving, caring person he remembered. She hardly ever smiled anymore, and seemed to become more anxious and nervous as she tried to keep her husband happy.

In contrast, Berenice was thrilled with how things were going. She had finally managed to snare a promise of engagement from Sir Tibald, a lad from an extremely wealthy family. Promises from the influential Sir Jaxon to aid the young knight's rise up the ranks wherever possible, had helped hasten the process. Gwaine wasn't sure if it was Berenice's selfishness that blinded her to her mother's plight, or if she genuinely didn't notice.

Within a year, the two young people were wed and Berenice moved from Sir Jaxon's house into her own chambers in the castle. Gwaine hoped things might change for the better now, but conversely, the relationship between Jaxon and his mother became worse. He began to openly criticize Clarice and the negative effect on her self esteem was great. Every effort she made to keep the house up to her husbands exacting standards or to be the model wife he wished for, was met by derision from Sir Jaxon. The harder Clarice tried, the more she was subjected to his ridicule. Gwaine could see that the knight got some sort of sadistic pleasure out of his bullying and it made him feel sick to watch.

It was not long after his 11th birthday that Gwaine reached a limit to how much he could stand by and watch. He had pleaded and pleaded with his mother to leave, even if they had to live in a cave in the forest he knew they would be better off. It was breaking his heart to see his mother reduced to this helpless creature and he knew he had to do something soon or lose her forever.

When Sir Jaxon returned from his duties that evening, Gwaine summoned up all the bravery an 11 year old could and confronted him. With his fists clenched at his sides he raised his voice to the much larger figure.

"I want you to stop being so cruel to my mother!"

"What did you say boy?" the knight replied laughing at him. "Get out of my way!"

"No! You will listen to what I have to say! Stop bullying my mother or we'll leave!" Gwaine said continuing his defiance. He had never done anything like this before and found he was shaking and his voice sounded annoying high pitched.

Jaxon laughed harder. "You stupid child. She won't leave me, I knocked all the fight out of her long ago." He then took two giant strides across the room toward Gwaine and grabbed him by the front of his tunic, lifting him in the air.

"Don't you ever cross me boy or I'll make you pay," he snarled intimidatingly into the child's face. "What could a puny little thing like you do anyway?" Jaxon mocked him further, shaking him a few times then throwing him down hard onto the floor.

Gwaine could barely contain the tears of self disgust and hopelessness and welled in his eyes as the bully left the room, muttering how pathetic he was. The worst part was, he was right. What could a child do against a knight? His mother was beyond reason by now and he had no adult to confide in.

**A/N; I'd love to know your thoughts so far? Did you see any of the adult Gwaine in the little boy standing up for his mum?**


	4. Chapter 4

As the months went by his mother became more and more ill. She had stopped eating and nothing Gwaine did could rouse her from her melancholy. He knew Sir Jaxon was responsible for what was happening; he had destroyed her spirit and now she was giving up.

"Please mother," he begged at her bedside. "We must leave this place. You have to get away from him." He'd tried convincing his mother to run away many times before but she always dismissed it as impossible. Maybe this time would be different though. Maybe she'd find a way to beyond her dire position and recognize there was a way to escape?

"Mother, come on. What's stopping us?" he continued, gently shaking her shoulder. There was seldom a response from her anymore, but today even her eyes looked empty. Gwaine clutched her hand tightly, wishing he could DO something. He'd promised her when his father had died that he'd look after her, but he was a total failure! If only he was bigger, stronger, older.

"Don't be silly Gwaine. Please, let me rest," came the weak reply. It seemed that's all she did nowadays - rest.

It was the following day or maybe the next day that his mother gave him the souvenir which he would come to value so highly that he would keep it close to his heart, both day and night.

Gwaine had been sitting by his mother for a few hours when her voice startled him. "My darling boy." He thought she'd been asleep, and hoped dreaming of a happier time.

"Mother! I'm here, I won't ever leave you." He tried to comfort her in the only way a child could.

"Gwaine, I love you more than anything." She continued quietly. "There is something I want you to have, to remember me by." Gwaine couldn't help crying again, as much as he wanted to be strong for his mother. He knew deep down that she was trying to say goodbye, but he refused to accept it!

"No mam, don't speak like that. You'll get better..."

His mother shook her head weakly at him. "Shhhh son, please." She gently pulled her hand from his grip and reached to her bedside table. "Your father put this ring on my finger the day we wed. Please Gwaine keep it close. I know you have few memories of him but he was a good man, a kind man. I see some of him in you."

Gwaine looked down at the small silver object she had placed in his hand and wondered exactly what parts of himself his mother meant.

"Mam, it'll be alright. I'll look after you." Gwaine bravely tried again to give his mother strength but she had slumped back onto her pillows again, looking completely drained.

Gwaine desperately tried to think of a way to save his mam. As a possible solution finally dawned on him he began to stand up.

"I know who'll help us mam, just hold on." He squeezed her hand once more, and then turned to leave the room. Why didn't he think of this before? His sister was selfish and vain but Gwaine was sure she wouldn't let their mother suffer so. She could help; maybe give them refuge or get her husband to speak to Jaxon. Gwaine didn't ponder on the details at the moment, all he knew was that his mother couldn't take much more and something had to give.

He clutched the ring tightly in his hand and set off to the castle and Berenice's chambers straight away.

Berenice's personal servant opened the door to Gwaine's frantic knocking and banging. He heard his sister's voice coming toward the door, "Who is making that racket?"

"Berenice!" Gwaine cried out "Mam needs you!"

"Oh. It's you." She answered him deflated."Nancy, you can go now," Berenice dismissed the servant and dragged Gwaine inside as though she was embarrassed for anybody to see him.

"What are you on about?" She asked her younger brother in annoyance.

"It's horrible. Sir Jaxon is cruel to Mam and now she's ill. You have to do something! Please!"

He begged his sister, tears welling in his eyes again as he spoke.

"Gwaine." Berenice sighed, "I'm sure you're mistaken. He's always given her everything, he dotes upon her." She pulled her arm away from Gwaine's hand that was grasping her arm in desperation and hurriedly strode way from him.

"Come and see her Berenice and you'll see what she's become."

"Gwaine, I will not listen to this. If mother is ill it's nothing to do with Sir Jaxon." She was studiously avoiding eye contact with him and Gwaine had an uneasy feeling that she was hiding something.

"Why don't you believe me?" he cried. "Please Berenice!"

"Calm down will you or people will hear!" She reprimanded the boy with very little sympathy in her voice. "I might visit tomorrow but I have important engagements today."

At the time, Gwaine thought his sister's denial of anything sinister was because she simply failed to comprehend that anyone could be as deliberately cruel as Sir Jaxon had been to their mother. However as the years went by and he experienced the darker side of human nature over and over, Gwaine realized that his sister must have been completely aware of what was happening, but just didn't want to do anything to stop it. There was no way she would have been ignorant of Jaxon's nature. She had lived in the house with Gwaine, Clarice and Jaxon for just over a year and must have heard or seen something. Furthermore, the private lives of the knights and nobles was the prime subject of gossip amongst the ladies at court, and Berenice had made sure she was part of the 'in' crowd since she'd married Tibald and moved into the castle.

Certainly, Berenice had gained a lot from the marriage: Sir Jaxon had helped reconcile the engagement between the well to do Tibald and herself, then aided her husband's rise through the ranks of knights, to a position of power within the court. After a few short years Berenice found herself with all the wealth and power she had craved since she was a child.

Dredging his memories even further, he wondered if Berenice had somehow foreseen the possible benefits that having a knight of Jaxon's standing and political strength as her step father could bring. It would help explain why she had been so pushy and manipulative in the initial stages of the relationship.

Gwaine was too shocked to do anything but stare wordlessly at his sister. He felt rejected, both for himself and for his mother.

"Off you go now," she ushered him out the door with finality.

With an escalating feeling of dread, Gwaine returned to his mother, tears clouding his vision as he ran.

As he started up the hallway towards her room he saw Sir Jaxon come out and closed the door behind him. The knight looked up as he walked toward him.

"Gwaine, don't go in there now," he abruptly stated, grabbing the boy around the upper arm so he had to obey.

"Why not? What have you done to her?" He pleaded, twisting to get out of the man's hold.

"Stop your wretched struggling boy. She's gone. Your mother is dead." The knight spoke with no trace of pain or sympathy in his voice as he delivered the news.

"No, I don't believe you! Let me see her!" the boy screamed at him, his struggles becoming wilder.

"For god's sake boy, it's over!" By this stage Gwaine was struggling so violently that the knight held him with both hands. He was desperate to appear strong in front of this bully of a man, but he could do nothing to stop the sobs that began deep in his chest, escape from his mouth as savage wails or the hot, and tears of devastation fall from his eyes.

After a minute or so the knight released his grip on Gwaine and he slumped to the floor still sobbing pitifully.

**A/N: Poor Gwaine. What will he do now? Please review, I'd love to read your opinions.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Gwaine fights back and things start to look up for him.**

****Gwaine sat on the floor submerged in grief for his lost mother. He hated his powerlessness, his loneliness and most of all he hated Jaxon. As he thought back over all she'd endured over the past 5 years his grief slowly turned itself into anger until eventually something snapped inside him when he heard Jaxon shouting at one of the kitchen girls followed by her cry of pain. As he jumped to his feet and ran at the ogre who had killed his mother and wrecked his life, a fearlessness borne of revenge overtook him. Time seemed to slow down as he approached Jaxon.

"I hate you!" he screamed at him, flying at the much larger person with all the fury he could muster.

Jaxon laughed at his attack at first, but after receiving a few vicious hits from the boy, his mirth turned to anger. What did this impudent child think he could do?

"Stop that you little savage, or I'll throw you out! I only ever put up with your behaviour because of your mother! Now she's no bloody use to me anymore so there's no reason for you to be here!" He tried to throw the flailing boy off him as he yelled.

The knights words fueled Gwaine's attack even more. Without Jaxon being aware of it in the struggle, Gwaine somehow managed to pull the dagger out of the knight's belt and with an anger greater than he'd ever felt his life and his mind spinning with Jaxon's cruel words, Gwaine lifted the dagger with both hands and plunged it into the knights side as hard as he could.

* * *

><p>"I don't really remember what happened after that. Two days later I found myself many leagues away so I guess I must have ran." Gwaine ran a hand through his hair shakily as he recalled the panic and fear he'd felt at the time.<p>

Merlin was examining his friend closely. Never had he seen him so open, honest and vulnerable and never had he seen such pain in his eyes. His preconcieved notion of Gwaine as a carefree, happy-go-lucky wanderer was taking a battering.

"Gwaine, I'm so sorry. If somebody had hurt my mother when I was 11 years old, I don't think I'd still be here."

Gwaine made a tiny hurrumphed noise. "Yeah, well I should've done something sooner. It's a regret I'll always have."

"No Gwaine, don't think like that! You were a child, you couldn't have changed things." Merlin spoke with a mixture of authority and sympathy. What would it have done to him, carrying around that sort of guilt? No wonder he was a reluctant to stick around in one place long enough to start forming bonds with people.

"That's real nice of you to say Merlin, but, that's how I feel."

The two men contemplated their own thoughts in silence for a couple of minutes, the only sounds interrupting the quiet were the hooting of an owl of some kind and the gentle crackles of the fire.

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked gently. "Did he die? Sir Jaxon I mean". There was no nice way to ask his friend if he'd committed murder at age 11.

"I don't know. I don't think it was a mortal wound but I never went back to find out." Gwaine answered, shuffling around uneasily where he was sitting. "Up until a few years back I always hoped it would have caused him a lot of pain. But then I realized that no matter how much agony it gave him, nothing would undo the harm and anguish he perpetrated upon my mother."

"No child should have to live through what you did Gwaine," Merlin was shocked at his friends story. Sure it hadn't been all easy times in Ealdor but at least he'd had a loving environment to grow up in. He been allowed the freedom to behave like a child should and confidence that his mother would love and care for him no matter what. He'd already decided that he'd had a more pleasant childhood than Arthur, in many ways, now he was beginning to think he'd been the lucky one amongst his friends.

Merlin wasn't sure if Gwaine was ready to continue his life story, maybe he regretted all he'd given away already?

"Gwaine, can you keep going or do you want to call it a night?" Merlin asked gently, giving his friend a way out if he chose.

Gwaine breathed in deeply then replied, "I'm not gonna sleep now, so I may as well continue. That is if you want to hear more of my dark past?" He grinned half heartedly as he spoke.

* * *

><p>After the incident with Sir Jaxon, the young Gwaine ran blindly. The fear, grief and shock was all too much for his conscious mind which somehow shut itself off from his surroundings.<p>

When he finally came to his senses he had no idea where he was or how much time had passed. He was in a forest of some description and having to fight his way through heavy undergrowth. It was possibly the sharp pain of branches tearing through the material of his tunic and scratching into his skin, that 'awoke' him.

As he pushed himself onwards, Gwaine could hear a stream trickling up ahead and he suddenly became aware of how thirsty he was. Another five minutes of slow progress brought him finally to a small, clear stream and as he sank down to his knees to slake his thirst, he heard the sound of human voices.

The foliage on the other side on the stream was considerably thinner and a dwelling of some sort nestled in a clearing some 50 cubits (~20 m) away from where he was sitting. Three men standing close to the building were engaged in an animated conversation which he could partially hear.

"I've told you before, Loth, you're not welcome here if your going to get up your usual tricks." The speaker was a large man, dressed in simple, rather grubby trousers and tunic with an apron tied about his ample waist. The guy he addressed was younger, mid twenties maybe, with a confident air and cheeky grin. He too wore the clothes of a peasant or commoner.

"Okay fellas," he held his hands up in surrender as he answered, "Can't blame a man for trying."

The man with them was much better dressed, his pants and tunic fitting perfectly, his long leather boots shiny and expensive looking. To top it off he had a luxuriously embroidered royal blue cloak fastened at his neck with an engraved silver buckle.

"Just take it as a warning mate, that if you travel around these parts looking like that, you're asking to be robbed." Loth directed at the wealthy traveller, before turning and starting up the dirt path which would take him within a couple of body lengths of Gwaine's position.

"I'm truly sorry Sir," the man with the apron humbled himself. "This is usually a quiet, safe tavern. We have a couple of colorful locals though. At least no real harm was done." the innkeeper finished as he returned to the wealthy man a bag of coins which he held at his side.

"That ruffian should be dealt with! He'd have taken all my savings!"

"To be fair Sir, you did willingly part take in his wager."

Gwaine was fascinated with the exchange. It appeared that somehow, this Loth person had managed to win/steal/trick the noble out of his money. As he watched the miscreant walk towards him, he couldn't help but be impressed by the nonchalant way he carried himself or the knowing smile on his face. Here was a man, Gwaine thought, that could look after himself, who could live by his wits and not be afraid of anyone.

Maybe it was that notion which drew him towards Loth or just plain curiosity, but either way he found himself following the man stealthily, as he continued down the rough track.

**A/N Did anybody see the deleted scene of Series 4, Episode 8 when Merlin and Gwaine are going after the kidnapped Gaius? Well Gwaine, I'm gonna give you a father figure next chapter. (This probably only makes sense if you have seen the deleted scene I refer too.)**

**Can anybody see the similarities between this Loth character and the adult Gwaine we've com to love yet?  
>Please Review!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thank you to Mrs Bonner for her challenge. writing htis has really made me think about not only Gwaine's past but the other knights too, particularily Percival. It has been fun reading the different versions of Gwaine's life.  
>Also, apparently Eoin Macken does own the pendant and charms. They are his dad's wedding ring and an Egyptian artifact. I hope I have not offended him or his fans by playing with them for my own amusement.<br>Only a few more days to go till challenge ends.**

It turned out the man, named Loth, was incredibly easy to follow due to his incessant and tuneless humming. The noise he made travelled far in the otherwise tranquil forest environment and even a city boy like Gwaine had no problem following his target. After about an hour of strolling (and not all of it in a straight line) they reached a small, rough wooden hut, which had a lean-to attached at one side. A large wood pile was stacked up under the lean-to and a cow was peacefully chewing it's cud out the front.

The man greeted the cow warmly on his way past before opening the door to what was clearly his home. Before entering however, he stopped and turned around.

"You can come out now boy!" he shouted back into the forest from the direction he had come.

Gwaine crouched quietly, mortified to realize that his presence had been noticed.

"Come on, it'll be dark soon and I've got a hearty stew to warm up for dinner." Loth continued, trying to prise the child who'd followed him from the tavern, out into the open.

The mention of food started Gwaine's stomach rumbling, but he still hesitated, not sure if he should approach the man. Loth stood at the doorway for a few more minutes, waiting patiently.

"Well, you know where to find me if you want company." He eventually spoke again, deciding it was going to take a bit longer to gain the lad's trust. He then went inside, gently closing the door behind him.

As Gwaine continued to stay hidden not far from the hut, he mulled over his choices. He was hungry, cold, alone and carrying the scars of his recent trauma. It was a heavy burden for an 11 year old child to have to endure on his own and much to his self disgust he found tears welling in his eyes again, as it all suddenly became overwhelming.

Gwaine was huddled in a ball, sobbing quietly so didn't hear the man approach him. Loth looked down at the child and sighed deeply, wondering what had befallen him.

"Hey, it can't be that bad mate," Loth tried to keep his voice calm and soft so he wouldn't alarm the boy but he'd clearly spooked him none the less.

Gwaine jerked to a sitting position, furiously rubbing his eyes and keeping his face angled downwards in an attempt to hide his tears from this stranger.

"Come on, it's getting dark and cold son." Loth urged gently as though dealing with a frightened animal. He knelt down, bringing him closer to the boy's height and studied the waif closely. Judging by the quality of his clothing, the kid came from a fairly wealthy family but the degree of its griminess and the amount of rips and tears present, suggested he must have been wearing the same outfit for days.

"You don't have to tell me where you came from or anything, but you clearly need help. Don't you?"

The boy nodded weakly, clenching his jaws tightly to stop himself from crying.

Loth slowly reached out and drew the boy to his feet. "Come on, we'll go inside. Things will look better after a meal and a good night's rest." The man rambled in a soothing voice as he carefully guided Gwaine to the cottage.

* * *

><p>"I owe that man so much Merlin. He took me in when I had nowhere to go and taught me all I needed to know to survive in this dangerous old world." Gwaine had a far off look in his eyes as he spoke, clearly still reliving past events. "He was the closest thing I had to a father, I guess."<p>

Merlin nodded. He knew how much Gaius meant to him and it was clear from Gwaine's words that Loth had a similar place in his friend's heart. "Is he the one who taught you how to fight?" Merlin asked.

"Mmmm, sure did. He could wield his sword like it was an extension of his arm. The first time I saw him in action, I knew that's how I wanted to be." Gwaine answered contemplatively.

"Did he introduce you to tavern life as well then?" Merlin smiled widely at his friend. There were three things he closely associated with Gwaine: excellent swordsmanship, his love of alcoholic beverages and his ability to flirt shamelessly with the ladies.

"I told you, he taught me all the important stuff a young man needs. There's an endless supply of rich, stupid nobles hanging out in taverns just waiting to be divested of some of their gold Merlin. All it takes is the knowhow." Gwaine tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially as he spoke.

Merlin laughed softly at the reply, having a vision in his head of a teenage Gwaine ripping off much older, more worldly men with some (possibly slightly dishonest) wager or gambling game, then high tailing it with his earnings before the poor fools knew what hit them.

"So, who was he? Was he a retired knight?"

Gwaine guphawwed, "No, Loth was a common man. He learned his sword craft at the 'school of life' not at the hands of some stuffy King or noble. He always told me that there was no better teacher."

* * *

><p>Gwaine thought back to the hours he'd spent as a teen duelling with his new found mentor. At first it had been using small wooden swords as Loth introduced the boy to the proper techniques and footwork required. As the years went by and Gwaine grew in strength and skill they switched to blunted swords and their duels became more intense and involved.<p>

A 17 year old Gwaine knew he'd learnt all he possibly could from Loth when he fended off three men who had ambushed him on the way home one night, with considerable ease.

He and Loth had spent the best part of the afternoon at one of the larger taverns in the city which was located about 40 minutes walk away from their home. They'd successfully managed to empty the money pouches of more than a few hapless drinkers via some sleight of hand and a two headed coin, when Loth decided to call it a night as he had a rendezvous planned with his latest lady friend. When Gwaine left an hour or so latter one of the aggrieved parties and his two hangers on, followed the youth, determined to get back what had been lost.

The first time Gwaine realized he was being followed was when two of the clods attacked him as he rounded a corner. Reflexly, Gwaine drew his sword, spinning around and downward so he could simultaneously avoid a blow aimed at his neck and scoop up a handful of dirt which he threw into the larger of his attackers' eyes, temporarily blinding him.

Loth had always instilled in him what an advantage speed of movement could be, so making the most of his youth and abundant energy, Gwaine swiftly dealt a serious of thrusts to the other attacker, driving him backwards. The force and relentlessness of Gwaine's blows caused the man to lose his balance and as he tried to regain his footing the 17 year old brought the hilt of his sword up and smashed it hard into his foe's nose. One down, two to go.

Turning back to the first opponent who had finally managed to get the grime out of his eyes, Gwaine grinned cheekily and flew at his victim, sword raised. The two clashed angrily, Gwaine parrying many a blow from the larger man, waiting for an opening so he could deliver a telling blow of his own. As one of Gwaine's lower aimed thrusts was being deflected, he deftly rotated his own sword up and around before his opponent could get his entire strength pin pointed.

In a move which he would later claim as his trademark, Gwaine used his own weapon as a sort of hook and managed, in one smooth move, to prise his opponents sword from his grasp and flip it up in the air so that he could catch it via the hilt. Now unarmed and faced with two swords, the attacker saw the better part of valour and ran for his life. Two down, one to go.

The remaining member of the group had lagged behind the others and Gwaine recognized him from the tavern, remembering that his cohorts had called him Lord something-or-other. _Typical of a noble to get underlings to do the dirty work for them._

This man fought with more finesse than the others, but was still no match for Gwaine. The two fought and parried each other's blows, the metal of their swords ringing loudly in the evening air. This time Gwaine added a little unorthodoxy to his approach as he leapt up onto one of several bales of hay that were stacked up in the laneway, his superior height giving him greater reach.

Playing somewhat with his opponent, Gwaine managed to nick the noble's left cheek with his blade, eliciting a wince, before he continued his attack for real. Jumping down to ground level again he drove Lord Thingamabob backwards until he was up against a wall and had no room to move. A well timed blow knocked the blade from his hand and the next thing he knew, the noble had Gwaine's sword at his throat.

"I yield! I yield!" the defeated Lord squawked in fear of his life, his eyes raised to the sky as though searching for heaven sent help.

Gwaine laughed at the man, never having any real intent to hurt him. "But have you learned your lesson? Do you concede I won that money fair and square?" this wasn't quite %100 true but the noble was hardly going to argue with a sharp sword next to his jugular vein was he?

"Yes ok." He hissed back. "You won that gold and good luck to you."

Gwaine let him go and gave him a push down the street. As Lord Thingamabob bent to retrieve his weapon, Gwaine sneered at him, wanting a souvenir of his victory. "Leave that where it is or I'll make you."

Free to continue his homeward journey again, Gwaine gathered his spoils, still laughing. He felt no guilt; it wasn't like the rich prat was going to go hungry. It was a sort of ethical agreement between him and Loth to target only the wealthy, slimy or dishonest. They had no wish to make innocents suffer and the idea of sending an honest man home empty handed to his wife and children or to deprive a decent, working man of his hand earned pay went against their personal code of morals.

**A/N Are readers preferring things now it's not so tragic for Gwaine? Do Merlin and Gwaine's converations seem believable? Love to know what you think so please review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Last chapter folks. There are lines of dialogue at the end of the chapter that come directly from the episode 'Eye of the Phoenix'. **

Merlin was laughing as Gwaine finished the colourful re-telling of his first victorious sword fight. He could clearly imagine his friend's mischievous face as he gave the older men a fighting lesson and wished he'd been a witness.

"That move, where you twist the sword out of your opponent's hand", Merlin asked, thinking back to the melee where Gwaine had jumped in to save Arthur by employing that very manoeuvre. "Was that one of Loth's too?"

"It was", Gwaine replied frowning in thought, "Of course I executed it a lot more impressively than he ever did." Breaking into one of his characteristic huge grins, Gwaine looked over at Merlin who couldn't help himself from laughing at his friend's vanity.

"Anyway, when I told him what happened the next day he gave me this, and said that in his eyes, I was now a man." Gwaine had taken the chain from around his neck and was holding the crescent shaped charm between his thumb and forefinger. It was intricately decorated with a swirling pattern that Merlin had never really noticed before. "Originally, it was part of a decoration on the hilt of a sword owned by Loth's grandfather's father. It was the family tradition to pass it down the male line, and as I was the closest thing he'd ever get to a son, Loth wanted me to have it."

Merlin was beginning to understand why he always kept it close. Perhaps the charm had the same sort of sentimental value to Gwaine that the wooden dragon Balinor had carved, did for him.

"Why don't you ever talk about him Gwaine? It sounds like you should be proud of him."

"Oh I am. I just like to keep him to myself I guess. Anyway, I'm telling you now aren't I?" Merlin still had a feeling that Gwaine wasn't telling him everything. Why wouldn't he have mentioned Loth when they were talking about fathers the day after him and Arthur had first brought him to Camelot?

"Gwaine, is he still alive?" Merlin asked tentatively, scared that might be the reason Gwaine never mentioned him.

"Yeah. Well, last time I was in the area he was anyway." Gwaine was scuffing his boots into the ground and avoiding Merlin's gaze. The young Warlock was wondering whether to push him for details or leave him be, but it turned out he didn't have to do either.

"Last time I saw him we had a stupid argument and things got bitter."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I keep meaning to go back but..."

"Can I ask what it was about?"

Gwaine raised his eyebrows then exhaled abruptly before replying, "A girl, well woman really."

"Oh."

"Stupid really. Throwing away that friendship for a girl. But at the time, well, it was a big deal for me." Gwaine gazed off into the distance as he recalled the pain of his first broken heart. "I've heard they were only together for a few months after I left."

"Maybe you should go and see him Gwaine? He obviously means a lot to you."

Gwaine shrugged non committaly. "Maybe, one day."

The silence once again surrounded them and it became clear after a while that there was to be no more of Gwaine's story tonight.

"Well, I guess we better get some sleep. It's still a good day's walk back to Camelot." As he spoke, Merlin probed his friends face for any sign that he wished to continue the discussion.

"Yeah, I guess so," Gwaine's replied, staring into the flames. "Good night Merlin."

The two settled down as best they could on the hard, cold ground. The fire afforded them some warmth but it was going to be a pretty uncomfortable night.

"Gwaine." Merlin turned his head so he could see his friend's face reflected in the firelight.

"Mmmm."

"I just wanted ... well ... I mean thanks for telling me your past. It means a lot to me that you trust me enough." Merlin couldn't see Gwaine's face clearly in the flickering light, but he was almost sure he saw a flash of white as the older man grinned widely, exposing his teeth.

"Yeah, me too. I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself though Merlin. Might ruin my image otherwise." He answered, still smiling.

The next morning the three men reached the location where they'd left the horses in safety, outside The Perilous Lands. As they continued their journey back to Camelot on horseback, Merlin couldn't get the things Gwaine had told him out of his head. His childhood had been so tragic and cruel that it was a wonder his friend had turned out so easy going and able to care for others at all. If Merlin had suffered such pain and loss in his life, he imagined he would parcel his heart up beneath as many as possible in order to keep it protected from any further damage. It was little wonder that Gwaine tended to live a life with no commitments or ties and preferred to keep himself somewhat isolated from those around him.

After many more hours riding, they finally reached the field that surrounded Camelot.

"This is the border. By Uther's decree, I can go no further." Gwaine stated.

"I'm sorry, Gwaine. Nothing I can do to change that." Arthur met his eyes and answered as apologetically as dignity would allow.

"Maybe one day." Merlin spoke wide eyed, searching himself for some hope that maybe things really be different one day when Arthur was King.

Gwaine could see this was hurting his young friend and wanted, in typical Gwaine fashion, to lighten the moment. "Yeah. When Camelot gets itself a half-decent king."

"Careful..." Arthur reproached him in jest.

Merlin allowed himself a small snicker as Arthur continued, "He is my father."

"Well, you can't have everything, heh?" Gwaine answered light heartedly.

"Where will you go this time?" Merlin asked.

"Well, I have someone I need to go see, to sort out a few things." As he met Merlin's eyes, understanding passed between the two.

"Thanks for the help Gwaine." Merlin bade his friend goodbye, hoping it wouldn't be too long before their paths crossed again.

"Hmm."

"I'll remember this, Gawain." Arthur called out as Gwaine turned his horse to leave. He couldn't help but think what a waste it was. Such a skilled swordsman and strong character would be a fantastic addition to Camelot's fighting force, even if his attitude to authority left a lot to be desired.

Merlin hoped that Gwaine and Loth managed to sort things out. The older man had obviously been very important to him when he was a youth and Merlin knew that even the strong, independent man that Gwaine portrayed himself to be, needed to feel like he had someone to be proud of him and love him through good times and bad. Maybe one day Gwaine could come live in Camelot and make a place for himself there, but before that he needed to make peace with his past.

**A/N Thanks for reading! Please review if you liked it or hated it or if any part of the story made you _feel something. _**


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